Garcia leaned back. “Is it true you were sitting next to him at dinner?”
“It was a small table. Most of us were sitting next to him.” I sat straighter in my chair. “Is there something else going on?”
“Who served the wine that night?” asked Garcia.
“I did. Do you think I did something to him?”
Adams stared at me. “Is it just a coincidence you’re working for Paul Rafferty now? Cooper’s job.”
I shook my head. “You really don’t know me at all.”
“I don’t know you? I know you were involved in the murder at Frontier a few months ago.”
“Rick,” said Garcia, “leave her alone. You know she wasn’t a part of that.”
“Actually,” I said as I put my arms on the table and smiled, “I was. I helped solve it.”
“But now you have a new job.”
“My job is still at Trentino, the same place where I’ve worked the last four years, and I love it. In the meantime, I’m working for Paul on a project about the counterfeit wine. Not as his assistant.”
“Maybe this was your plan all along, to help Cooper down the stairs and then take his place.” Adams stared at me.
“The agreement between me and Paul Rafferty has nothing to do with Cooper’s accident. Besides, I was having dessert with the other guests when Cooper fell. There are witnesses.” If someone actually did help him down the stairs, I thought to myself, it wasn’t me.
The deputies glanced at each other. Adams closed the file and stared at me.
“Does this mean I can go? I’d like to get to work before my shift begins.”
“You can leave, Ms. Stillwell,” said Deputy Adams. “But know that I’m watching your every move.”
eighteen
pairing suggestion: cariñena—aragon, spain
Cariñena or Carignan, primarily used as a blending grape
but has now become its own wine.
-
By the time I arrived at Trentino, I was nearly an hour late to my shift. I pulled open the door to the restaurant and paused when I saw Kurt by one of the tables, ready to work. That was fast. He asked Bill on Monday and a day later he already had a shift? I nodded at him as I walked by.
It’s a funny thing about relationships. You can end them and step away, but sometimes life has a way of bringing you back together. Our relationship had come full circle. We had both worked at Trentino years ago, but it was only temporary before he moved to his position at Greco’s. And here we were, working together again.
The evening went on as normal and I focused on the tables in my area until Kurt and I passed each other and our eyes met.
Even though I knew I still had feelings for him deep inside, there was no chance at reigniting the flame. It was history, and it needed to stay that way. Besides, I had Dean. Sort of. And I could never go back to Kurt. Not that things were bad, but I had a feeling from the moment we first met that it wasn’t quite right with us. There wasn’t an exact reason that I could put my finger on. It was similar to the moment in blind tasting when you had to make a call and you knew it wasn’t going to be correct but you had no idea where else to turn.
I stood against the wall after the rush of tables had settled down. Kurt joined me a few minutes later. “Just like old times, working side by side.”
“Yep.” I focused on the tables, waiting to see if anyone needed anything. “But that was only briefly.”
“You like to remind me of that.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound that way.”
Kurt turned to me. “You okay? You seem stressed.”
He had always been able to read me. “I was questioned today at the sheriff’s station. They thought I attacked someone.”
“Did you?”
I looked at him. “Do you honestly think that I would?”
“No,” he replied. “But I also don’t know the situation, so I figured it was worth asking.”
“No,” I exhaled. “I didn’t attack them. But being interrogated wasn’t exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon.”
I watched the hostess, Alexis, motion to me as she sat a guest. I could tell by her signal that they had asked for me by name.
I approached the table to see Henry Diven. Although I wasn’t exactly surprised—he had said he might stop by—it was still strange to see him sitting there.
“Welcome, Mr. Diven,” I said as I stood at his table. “Have you dined with us before?”
“I haven’t, actually. What would you recommend? I’d love a drink to get me started.”
I thought back to the dinner at Paul’s. “Perhaps a Manhattan?”
“No, I want a wine as an aperitif. Give me some of that sommelier knowledge.”
“Champagne is an ideal aperitif. Shall I bring you a glass?”
“That sounds lovely,” said Henry as he handed me the wine menu. “Make it the most expensive Champagne you have by the glass.” He paused. “And actually, I’ll probably have a steak for dinner so after the Champagne, a glass of Bordeaux. Your choice.” He winked and the gesture didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t like people winking when they thought they knew me or, as I suspected in this case, thought they could control me. But I was glad he let me choose which wine to serve. This was a huge compliment coming from a wine enthusiast like him. Perhaps I was judging the wink too quickly. And then again, maybe I wasn’t. I needed to keep my guard up.
When I finished delivering Henry’s drinks, I returned to the wall.
Kurt touched my arm. “I’m really sorry about your day.”
I looked into his brown eyes. “You are?”
“Yes. Katie, even though you and I weren’t good at dating, I still care for you as a friend. I always will.”
“Thank you,” I replied and smiled.
Two more tables were seated and I helped them with pairing suggestions and took their drink orders. One requested a Rioja Crianza, a Spanish wine made from the Tempranillo grape. I removed the foil from the bottle, cutting a perfect circle around the top, and inserted the opener into the cork. Every step I took was a moment of routine, method, and calmness. It helped shake off the day.
At the end of the night, Henry was my last table to leave. He sat with the paid check next to him and stared at me.
“Looks like you have a fan,” said Kurt.
“Yep.” I finally approached the table. “Mr. Diven, can I get you anything else?”
“No, I’m fine. It was a lovely evening.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I hope you dine with us again.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Do you?”
Game face on. “We love having repeat clientele,” I said in a flat tone. In no way did I want him to think I was encouraging a relationship.
“Did you speak with Roberto?”
I glanced around. The nearby tables were empty. “I did. Thank you for the tip.”
“Did he tell you more about the Chateau Clair Bleu?”
My instinct was to not trust Henry. Not to trust anyone, really. Especially now that people were being attacked. “We talked about the wine, yes. Thank you again for pointing me in his direction.” I motioned to the bill. “Do you need anything else?”
“What did Roberto say?”
My mind raced to figure out how I should handle this. “I’m still sorting through what he told me.”
“What was it?”
“I’m going to keep that information to myself for the time being.”
Henry studied me. “I might be able to help, you know. I know people.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good,” he said as he stood up. “Well, it was good seeing you. I hope to see you again soon. May I call you?”
“I think we should just leave it like this for now
.” I smiled and Henry got the hint, or at least I hoped he did.
He left and I waited inside the door of Trentino until I was certain that he had driven away.
Kurt pushed open the door. “Are you hanging around?”
“No, I’m leaving.” I walked out of the restaurant and glanced around. I didn’t see Henry waiting in his car. The coast was clear.
“Hey, it was fun working with you again. Looking forward to the next time,” said Kurt.
“I agree.” My phone started to ring. “Sorry, I’ve got to get that.”
“No worries. See you tomorrow.” Kurt headed to his car as I grabbed my phone without looking at the number.
“Hello?”
“Katie, it’s Paul.”
“Paul,” I said with relief. “I’ve been meaning to call you. I just got off work.”
“You may not have called, but Martin did.”
“Martin?”
“Yes, he told me about what happened to him today.”
“Is he feeling okay? I think they said it was a minor bump, right?” I nodded even though I was on the phone.
“He’s fine. Resting at home now.” Paul took a deep breath. “Katie, I think it’s a good idea if we stop our project. I don’t want you looking into the wine anymore.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer.
“Paul, if you think that I had anything to do with Martin’s attack—”
“Katie,” he interrupted, “I can’t have you working for me. It’s not safe.”
I glanced around the nearly empty parking lot and decided I should get into my car and lock the door. “Paul, I’ll be fine. I know how to take care of myself.”
There was a long silence. “No, that’s not it.”
A small ball of anxiety formed in my stomach.
“Katie, I shouldn’t have hired you.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Martin is one of my closest friends and he was assaulted.”
“I know, but Martin already said it wasn’t me. Ask him yourself.”
“I did. The truth is, he doesn’t know who attacked him but he didn’t want anyone associated with me to be charged. I need to be careful. I need to protect my reputation. Thank you for your help, but it stops here.” He took another breath followed by a hoarse cough. “I’ll pay you for the time you’ve already put into this. I’ll have the check sent to Trentino.”
“But Paul, you know you can trust me.”
“I don’t know who I can trust anymore.” The phone call ended.
nineteen
pairing suggestion: gavi—piedmont, italy
A white wine that is well balanced in both fruit and acidity.
-
I opened the door to my apartment but stopped before stepping inside. There’s a certain feeling that comes over you when you blind taste a wine you’ve had before—a familiarity that strikes you deep inside. It’s the same feeling when you know something is awry before you can place it. That’s what I felt as I stood at the door. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was off. As if someone had been in there and looked around, careful not to touch anything but still leaving traces.
The flowers on the counter had lost the petals from one side, as if a shoulder had brushed against their fragile blooms. The couch cushions were shifted slightly from this morning, and my half-empty water glass on the table was closer to the edge.
But my laptop was still in the middle of the coffee table where I had left it the night before. Surely if someone was going to steal something, it would be my laptop.
I took one step inside, scanning for any additional details that I could peg down. My bed, a single with a blue cover, was exactly how I had left it—unmade. The books on my nightstand were in the same place as I remembered.
I began to doubt my suspicions. Maybe I had been wrong. After all, my computer was there. I sat down on the couch and glanced around one more time. I scanned the bookcase and that’s when I saw it. A gap that wasn’t there before, right between the end of the shelf and The Wine Bible. At first I couldn’t place the item that was missing. I tried to tell myself that maybe I had pulled out a book and left it somewhere else, but as I stared at the space, I knew from the location that it was one I used frequently. Although I wasn’t the tidiest person, I always put my books back.
And then I knew.
It was the black binder that contained all of my flash cards for the Certified and now the Advanced Exam. Thousands of them. Painstakingly handwritten over the last two years and placed into plastic sleeves where I could easily access them. Grouped into geographic regions with dividers, the cards were extensive and necessary for the test. And now they were gone.
Had I left the binder somewhere? My mind raced to the last time I had used it. Sunday night. I’d flipped through the pages after the dinner at Paul’s and put it back in the bookcase when I was done.
Who would want my cards? Someone studying for the test? It didn’t make sense. It was a pointed theft, something to unnerve me for whatever reason.
Robbed and fired on the same day. I didn’t know which one was worse, but to steal my cards was just plain malicious.
I picked up my phone but paused. I didn’t want to call the police. I had spent enough of my day being questioned. Even though I didn’t live anywhere near Sonoma and the cops would definitely not be Adams and Garcia, I knew that they would find out about it. And even if the attending officers believed me, I doubted Adams would. He would never be convinced that someone broke into my apartment. Instead he would think that I had set this up as a diversion from the Martin and Cooper situations.
No, I needed someone else to help me. Someone to check things out.
I glanced up at the note on the bulletin board with Dean’s phone number on it.
He arrived within an hour.
“Thanks for coming,” I said as I opened the door to him. “Sorry for calling so late.”
Dean nodded. “I didn’t think I’d see you so soon after our lunch.”
“Me either.” I sighed. “The rest of my day has not been so great.”
“Cute place.” Dean glanced around my four-hundred-square-foot apartment. “You live alone?”
I was a little embarrassed that I hadn’t made the bed, but I wasn’t used to visitors, especially unexpected ones. “I prefer it that way. No one to fight with over the dinner leftovers.”
“You’re that into leftovers?”
“Listen, I love Thai food. And when I’m craving those leftovers, I like coming home knowing they’re still there.”
Dean smiled and then became serious. “Okay, so you say someone broke in?”
“Yes.”
His gaze drifted to my computer on the table. “What was taken?”
I pointed to the bookshelf. “My flash card binder. For my exam.”
Dean took out his notebook and wrote it down. “What else?”
“That’s it.”
He stared at me, his blue eyes emotionless. “Did you check everywhere?”
“Yes. That’s all that was taken.”
He lowered his notebook. “You’re telling me someone broke into your apartment just to steal your flash cards?”
I shrugged. “Yep.”
“Are you sure you didn’t leave them somewhere? I mean, I know you said they were stolen, but maybe you went to a study group and left them there.”
“No, I looked at them Sunday night. I know they were here.”
Dean looked at me. “You should really call the San Francisco Police.”
“No more police.”
“What do you mean?”
I filled him in on my day.
“Katie, I’m worried about you. Martin was attacked moments before you were there, and now your apartment has been broken in
to. You need to report this.”
“No.” I shook my head. I didn’t want to go down that road. “It’s not a valuable theft. At least not to anyone else.”
“But it is to you,” he added.
I nodded. “Those cards took me countless hours and over two years of research.”
“This doesn’t appear to be the work of a career criminal. Your laptop would be gone, for one thing.”
“No. This was personal.”
Dean paced around the living room and took a moment to inspect the door lock. “It doesn’t look like it was jimmied open. Who has a key?”
“Besides me, no one. I mean, the building’s super, but that would be it and I highly doubt he would have stolen my flash cards.”
Dean shook his head. “If it wasn’t with a key then they had to get in another way. I don’t like the idea of you here by yourself when someone can get in. You should get your lock changed.” He glanced around. “Just the two windows?”
“There’s also a small one in the bathroom.”
Dean disappeared into the bathroom and returned to the main room, checking both windows. “Katie, come here. This one’s open.”
“What?”
“Take a look.”
I stepped closer to the large window that faced the side alley. The brass hook, which kept the sides together, was undone.
“I must have opened it one day and forgotten.” I glanced outside. “I guess I never thought about someone coming up the fire escape.”
Dean latched the window. “I still want you to be safe, so do me a favor and get the door lock changed. Even if you think the super is the only one with a key. It’s better to be safe.” He paused. “In fact, I’ll pick up a lock and do it myself tomorrow. Is that okay?”
I smiled. “That would be great. Thanks.” I rubbed my arms.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Just unsettled.” I sank down onto the edge of the sofa.
Dean took a seat next to me. “Any thoughts on who could have done this?”
“Not sure. Someone who knew I was studying for the next exam.”
“Isn’t that everyone?”
“Pretty much.” I glanced at Dean, his blond hair falling to the side of his face. “Do you think this is related to Martin’s attack?”
Uncorking a Lie Page 11
